The silence in the cell felt alive, thrumming with unspoken tension as the door slammed shut behind Darion. Elyra didn't speak, her heart still racing from the threat that had just left the room. But her eyes stayed locked on Kael.
His broad shoulders were rigid, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword like he was ready to draw it, not for her, but for someone else. She hated the way that small detail unsettled her.
Kael turned to face her, his expression hard and unreadable. For a moment, they stared at each other, the space between them too small, too charged.
"What was that about?" Elyra finally demanded, breaking the silence.
Kael's gaze flickered, but he didn't answer. Instead, he crossed the room, his boots echoing against the stone floor. He reached the table, picking up the untouched bowl of stew from the tray and placing it in front of her.
"Eat," he said again, his voice low.
"I'm not hungry," Elyra lied, crossing her arms.
Kael leaned forward, his storm-gray eyes narrowing. "You're lying."
"So what if I am?" she shot back, her voice sharp. "What are you going to do? Force me?"
For the first time, something like frustration flashed across his face. "Why do you have to fight me on everything?"
"Because you're the enemy," Elyra snapped. "Or have you forgotten that?"
Kael straightened, his jaw tightening. "No," he said quietly. "I haven't."
There was something in his tone that made Elyra pause. It wasn't anger or defiance—it was regret, raw and unexpected.
"What are you playing at, Kael?" she demanded, her voice softer now. "Why are you still here? Why haven't you turned me over to the king?"
Kael hesitated, his hand falling from the hilt of his sword. "Because I don't want to see you broken," he said, his voice low but firm.
Elyra laughed bitterly. "You think I'll break? You don't know me at all."
"I know enough," Kael said, stepping closer. "I know that you're not the monster they say you are. And I know you've seen enough of this war to question why you're still fighting it."
His words hit her like a blow, the truth in them cutting deeper than she wanted to admit. Elyra clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms.
"I fight because I have to," she said, her voice trembling. "Because someone has to stand against your king."
Kael's gaze softened, though his expression remained guarded. "And what happens if you lose?"
Elyra flinched, the question hitting a nerve she hadn't known was raw.
"I won't lose," she said, though the words felt hollow.
Kael stepped even closer, his presence overwhelming. "Are you sure? Because from where I'm standing, it doesn't look like you believe that."
The heat of his proximity was suffocating, his words peeling away her defenses one by one. Elyra took a step back, but Kael followed, closing the distance between them.
"You don't know anything about me," she whispered, her voice unsteady.
Kael's gaze bore into hers, his expression unreadable. "Then tell me," he said softly.
Elyra's breath hitched, the intensity in his eyes leaving her momentarily speechless. She hated the way he made her feel—vulnerable, exposed, alive.
Before she could respond, he reached for her, his hand brushing against her wrist. Elyra jerked back, her pulse racing.
"Don't," she said, her voice shaking.
Kael froze, his hand falling to his side. "I'm not your enemy, Elyra," he said quietly.
"You keep saying that," she said, her voice sharp. "But you've done nothing to prove it."
Kael's jaw tightened, and for a moment, she thought he might snap. But when he spoke, his voice was calm, steady.
"Then tell me how," he said.
Elyra blinked, caught off guard. "What?"
"Tell me how to prove it," Kael said, his gaze unwavering. "What do I have to do to show you that I'm not like him?"
The vulnerability in his words left her breathless. She stared at him, searching his face for the lie she was sure must be there. But she found none.
"You can't," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.
Kael took a step back, his expression darkening. "Then maybe the problem isn't me," he said.
The words stung more than she wanted to admit. Elyra turned away, her hands trembling as she gripped the edge of the table.
"Why do you care?" she asked, her voice cracking.
Kael hesitated, and for a moment, she thought he wouldn't answer. But then he spoke, his voice low and raw.
"Because I see myself in you," he said.
Elyra froze, her heart skipping a beat. She turned to face him, her eyes narrowing.
"What does that mean?" she demanded.
Kael's gaze flickered, but he didn't look away. "It means I know what it's like to fight for something you're not sure you believe in," he said. "And I know what it's like to lose yourself in the process."
His admission left her reeling, her mind racing as she tried to make sense of him. But before she could respond, the sound of footsteps echoed outside the door.
Kael tensed, his hand moving instinctively to his sword. The door creaked open, and Darion stepped inside, his smirk widening when he saw them.
"Well, well," Darion drawled. "What's this? A little heart-to-heart?"
Kael stepped in front of Elyra, his posture rigid. "What do you want, Darion?"
"The king has sent for her," Darion said, his tone mocking. "It seems her time is up."
Elyra's blood ran cold, but she forced herself to keep her expression neutral.
"She's not ready," Kael said, his voice firm.
Darion raised an eyebrow. "Not ready? Or are you stalling?"
Kael's hand tightened on the hilt of his sword. "Leave. Now."
Darion's smirk faltered, but he didn't argue. "Fine," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "But don't take too long, General. The king doesn't like to be kept waiting."
With that, he turned and left, the door slamming shut behind him.
Kael exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. He turned to Elyra, his expression unreadable.
"This isn't over," he said quietly.
Elyra's heart pounded in her chest, her defenses crumbling under the weight of his words.
For the first time, she wasn't sure who her real enemy was—or if she'd already let him too close.